Too Pure
by Elijah-ships-johnlock
Summary: Pureblood Sherlock decides he can't be friends with muggle-born John Watson anymore. Ships: Draco/Sherlock and John/Sherlock. Begins at year 5 and continues through to year 7. Rated M for future content (eventually there will be smut).
1. Chapter 1

Sherlock lied on the sofa in Slytherin common room. It was late; everyone else was asleep, but Sherlock rarely slept. His mind was far too active to allow him to fall asleep, especially with what had just happened. He hadn't meant it...really, he hadn't. It just slipped out. The unforgiveable word. _Mudblood._

* * *

_"I'm sorry."_

_"I'm not interested."_

_"I'm sorry!"_

_"Save your breath."_

_It was nighttime. John, who was wearing_ _pyjamas, stood with his arms folded in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, at the entrance to_ _Gryffindor_ _Tower._

_"I only came out because Molly told me you were threatening to sleep here."_

_"I was. I would have done. I never meant to call you_ _Mudblood, it just - "_

_"Slipped out?" There was no pity in John's voice. "It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends - you see, you don't even deny it! You don't even deny that's what you're all aiming to be! You can't wait to join You-Know-Who, can you?"_

_He opened his mouth but closed it without speaking._

_"I can't pretend anymore. You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine."_

_"No - listen, I didn't mean - "_

_" - to call me_ _Mudblood? But you call everyone else of my birth_ _Mudblood, Sherlock. Why should I be any different?"_

_Sherlock struggled on the verge of speech, but with a contemptuous look, John turned and climbed back through the portrait hole._

* * *

Sherlock looked up when he heard the door open again. Draco, Theodore and Blaise walked into the common room.

"Heard you called Watson a mudblood," said Blaise. Theodore looked pleased.

"About damn time you stopped hanging around that filth," said Draco. "You're a pureblood. Can't be seen with the wrong sorts of people."

Sherlock nodded, sighing softly. Maybe Draco was right. His parents would likely disown him if they found out he'd been friends with a muggle-born.

The three boys went upstairs to the dormitories, leaving Sherlock alone on the sofa.

* * *

Sherlock sat with Malfoy's clique the next morning at breakfast. His eyes kept wandering across the hall to his best friend - that filth, sitting at Gryffindor table. Sherlock forced his eyes to look down at his empty plate. He hardly heard the rest of the group talking, all just buzzing through his ears in a different tongue, his brain too tired to translate it to Sherlock-language. Draco gave him a slight nudge when everyone else started leaving.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine.."

Draco bit his lip, but didn't ask anything more. They walked silently to Charms together, which Sherlock was thankful he didn't have with John. Slytherin and Ravenclaw shared this class. Draco and Sherlock sat together behind Luna Lovegood and Anthea. On the other side of the room, Pansy was talking to Sally Donovan, a Ravenclaw. She was too stupid to be in Ravenclaw, though apparently she was good enough for Pansy and her friends, probably because her father worked at the Ministry of Magic and she was a pureblood. Sherlock didn't like her - she was nasty and called him a freak for hanging out with Mudblood John.

After Charms was Potions, a class shared by Slytherin and Gryffindor. Sherlock glanced over at John, which was met by a slight nudge from Sherlock. Mudblood. Sherlock couldn't associate with him anymore.

_Just ignore him,_ said Draco's grey eyes. Sherlock looked down at his textbook and opened it up to page 233 as Professor Snape instructed. Mandrake Restorative Draught.

Sherlock's textbook was marked with notes in his scrawled handwriting. Bits of instructions were changed and additional notes added in the margins.

Draco and Sherlock were the first to finish brewing the potion, getting it correctly on their first attempt. Sherlock, of course, always knew what he was doing, but Draco was quite intelligent himself (albeit, not as clever as Sherlock). As much as he always complained about it, Sherlock sort of missed having to help John, who was much better on a quidditch pitch than he was in Potions class.

Professor Snape came over and examined their potion, seeming pleased with it. Sherlock was his best student, even better than Granger, so it was no surprise to anyone that the professor was pleased with their results.

On the other side of the room, John and Harry's potion exploded, leaving them both covered in a sticky green liquid, while Hermione rolled her eyes and continued to help Ron with their potion, though Hermione seemed to be doing all the work. Probably for the best, thought Sherlock, thinking of how badly Ron's potions ended when they weren't allowed to work in pairs.

Draco put their ingredients away in the cupboard; Sherlock could tell he did it deliberately so that Sherlock wouldn't run into John.

_Draco just wanted what was best for Sherlock. _

_Draco understood what Sherlock's parents would do if they found out he'd been friends with dirty-blooded John Watson. _

_Draco was Sherlock's friend now, not John. _

_Draco was better than John, purer, cleverer..more worthy of being friends with Sherlock._

Sherlock didn't need John anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a few days since John and Sherlock were no longer friends. Sherlock didn't really like Draco's friends, but they were purebloods so he hung out with them anyway. Draco wasn't like them though. He was clever. He distanced himself from emotions and sentiments, like Sherlock did. He was intelligent. His parents were like Sherlock's, so he understood how severe the consequences would be if his parents found out about his former friendship with John.

Draco could tell it was still bothering him.

They were alone in Slytherin common room. Sherlock was taking up his usual spot, lying across the sofa, staring at the ceiling. His fingertips touched in front of his lips, somewhere between prayer and deep thought. Draco bit his lip before deciding something needed to be said.

"Look, I know you're still upset about that Watson kid," he started. "I can see it all over your face, and the way you look at him when you think no one sees you. But you _can't_ be friends with him. He's a filthy, scummy mudblood and if your parents find out you two have been hanging out, they'll disown you. I know; my parents would too. You have to just let it go. He's not like you."

* * *

_They were on platform nine and three-quarters. Sherlock stood, slightly hunched, next to a thin, sallow-faced, sour-looking woman who greatly resembled him, and an older boy who looked like a fatter, lighter-haired Sherlock. Sherlock was staring at a family of four a short distance away. A boy and a girl stood a little apart from their parents. John seemed to be pleading with his sister._

_"...I'm sorry, Harry, I'm sorry! Listen - " He caught his sister's hand and held tight to it, even though Harriet tried to pull it away. "Maybe once I'm there - no, listen, Harry! Maybe once I'm there I'll be able to go to Professor Dumbledore and persuade him to change his mind!"_

_"I don't - want - to - go!" said Harriet, and she dragged her hand back out of her brother's grasp. "You think I want to go to some stupid castle and learn to be a - a -"_

_Her pale eyes roved over the platform, over the cats mewling in their owners' arms, over the owls fluttering and hooting at each other in cages, over the students, some already in their long black robes, loading trunks onto the scarlet steam engine or else greeting one another with glad cries after a summer apart._

_" - you think I want to be a - a freak?"_

_John's eyes filled with tears as Harriet succeeded in tugging her hand away._

_"I'm not a freak," said John. "That's a horrible thing to say."_

_"That's where you're going," said Harriet with relish. "A special school for freaks. You and that Sherlock boy...weirdos, that's what you two are. It's good you're being separated from normal people. It's for our safety."_

_John glanced toward his parents, who were looking around the platform with an air of wholehearted enjoyment, drinking in the scene. Then he looked back at his sister, his voice was low and fierce._

_"You didn't think it was such a freak's school when you wrote to the headmaster and begged him to take you."_

_Harriet turned scarlet._

_"Beg? I didn't beg!"_

_"I saw his reply. It was very kind."_

_"You shouldn't have read - " whispered Harriet, "that was my private - how could you - "_

_John gave himself away by half-glancing toward where Sherlock and his family stood nearby. Harriet gasped._

_"That boy found it! You and that boy have been sneaking in my room!"_

_"No - not sneaking - " Now John was defensive. "Sherlock saw the envelope, and he couldn't believe a Muggle could have contacted Hogwarts, that's all! He says there must be wizards working undercover in the postal service who take care of - "_

_"Apparently wizards poke their noses in everywhere!" said Harriet, now as pale as she had been flushed. "_Freak!_" she spat at her brother and she flounced off to where her parents stood._

* * *

Sherlock was alone in Professor Snape's classroom. The Professor let him come in and do experiments and potions whenever he pleased; he liked Sherlock, who reminded him a lot of himself when he was younger. He and that Gryffindor boy...but Snape noticed they hadn't been sitting together in class anymore. He thought about asking Sherlock about it when he saw him that afternoon, but decided against it.

Sherlock hunched over a cauldron, observing intently the reactions of Dragon Blood and Aconite when combined together. His wild dark curls were even more feral than usual, falling over his pale face and sleep-deprived eyes.

"Sherlock! Sherlock, are you coming to the Quidditch match today?"

A thin, brown-haired boy came running in. Sherlock nearly dropped the vile he was holding.

"Oh - Theodore…I, um…" Sherlock hadn't been planning on going. Sports weren't really his thing. But Draco would be there and he supposed he could go just this once. "Yeah, I'm going."

"Well come on then, it's starting soon!"

Sherlock looked back at his experiment, which he hadn't gotten to finish.

"I'll clean all this up later, professor," he said and ran out the door with Theodore.


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock had never enjoyed sports. He preferred potions and books, things of importance. John used to say Sherlock ought to have been a Ravenclaw. But the Sorting Hat said "A Ravenclaw would know about the solar system!" and then promptly sorted the clever-but-ignorant first year into Slytherin.

Sherlock had gone to one or two games for John's sake when he had made the team. He wanted to be a beater, but the Weasley twins occupied both positions so he'd gone for chased instead. Next year he was going to go for beater after they'd graduated and Gryffindor would need new beaters.

Draco was Slytherin's seeker. Sherlock thought her looked rather dashing in his quidditch gear.

Today's match was Slytherin against Gryffindor, though Gryffindor's team obviously had the disadvantage; John was apparently sick and unable to play, and some third year was filling in for him who was absolutely terrible. With Potter having been kicked off the team by Professor Umbridge a few weeks ago, it was no surprise when Slytherin won.

After the match, Draco approached Sherlock, who was sitting with Pansy, Theodore, Crabbe and Goyle.

"Hey," he said sitting down beside the curly-haired fifth year.

"Hey. Nice job," replied Sherlock.

"Thanks. Um, I was wondering if you'd like to head to the Three Broomsticks with me."

"Sure," said Sherlock, nodding his head.

"Alright, um, I'll be right back. Just have to change out of my quidditch gear…"

Draco got up and ran off to the locker room, leaving Sherlock in the stands. Theodore smiled at him, and Pansy, who had been going on for the past hour how she and Draco always went out after his quidditch games, looked superlatively jealous. Pansy spotted Sally Donovan and ran off, probably to complain to her about Draco not asking her out, and the other three boys eventually left too, leaving Sherlock in the stands by himself.

A tall, thin figure with pale blond hair approached him.

"Hey, you ready to go?"

"Yeah," said Sherlock, standing up. Draco smiled and held out his hand for Sherlock.

Sherlock had never been in any kind of relationship with anyone. He was unsure and nervous (which made him even more unsure and nervous as these were not emotions he was used to). Draco seemed to sense that and smiled lightly at him, taking the lead, but keeping the pace slow enough for Sherlock not to be overwhelmed.

* * *

_"Quills down, please!" squeaked Professor Flitwick. "Please remain seated while I collect your parchment! _Accio_!"_

_More than a hundred rolls of parchment zoomed into the air and into Professor Flitwick's outstretched arms, knocking him over backwards off his feet. Several people laughed. A couple of students at the front desks got up, took hold of Professor Flitwick beneath the elbows and lifted him onto his feet again._

_"Thank you…thank you," panted Professor Flitwick. "Very well, everybody, you're free to go!"_

_Sherlock moved between the tables, towards the doors into the entrance hall, still absorbed in his own examination paper. Round shouldered-yet angular, he walked in a twitchy manner that recalled a spider, his curly hair swinging about his face._

_Sherlock settled himself on the grass in the dense shadows of a clump of bushes. He was deeply immersed in the O.W.L. paper as ever. Not far off, Donovan, Anderson and two of their mates were sitting under a tree by the lake with their shoes and socks off, cooling their feet in the water._

_"I'm bored," said Anderson._

_"This'll liven you up, Anderson. Look who it is…"_

_Sherlock was on his feet again, and was stowing the O.W.L. paper in his bag. As he emerged from the shadows of the bushes and set off across the grass, Sally and Anderson stood up._

_"Alright, Freak?" said Sally loudly._

_Sherlock reacted so fast it was as though he had been expecting an attack: Dropping his bag, he plunged his hand inside his robes, and his wand was halfway into the air when Donovan shouted, "_Expelliarmus_!"_

_Sherlock's wand flew twelve feet into the air and feel with a little thud into the grass behind him. Anderson let out a bark of laughter._

_"_Impedimenta_!" he said, pointing his wand at Sherlock, who was knocked off his feet, halfway through a dive toward his own fallen wand._

_Students all around had turned to watch. Some of them had gotten to their feet and were edging nearer to watch. Some looked apprehensive, others entertained._

_Sherlock lay panting on the ground. Sally and Anderson advanced on him, wands up._

_"How'd the exam go, Freak?" said Sally._

_"I was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment," said Anderson viciously. "There'll be grease marks all over it, they won't be able to read a word."_

_Several people laughed; Sherlock was clearly unpopular. He tried to get up, but the jinx was still operating on him; he was struggling, as though bound by invisible ropes._

_"You - wait," he panted, staring up at Sally with an expression of purest loathing. "You - wait…"_

_"Wait for what?" said Anderson coolly. "What are you going to do, Freak, wipe your nose on us?"_

_Sherlock let out a scream of mixed swearwords and hexes, but his wand being ten feet away, nothing happened._

_"Wash out your mouth," said Sally coldly. "_Scourgify_!"_

_Pink soap bubbles streamed from Sherlock's mouth; the froth was covering his lips, making him gag, choking him -_

_"Leave him ALONE!"_

_Sally and Anderson looked around._

_"All right, Watson?" said Sally, the tone of her voice was suddenly pleasant, deeper, more mature._

_"Leave him alone," John repeated. He was looking at Sally with every sign of great dislike. "What's he done to you?"_

_"Well," said Sally, appearing to deliberate the point, "it's more the fact that he _exists_, if you know what I mean…"_

_Many of the surrounding watchers laughed, but not John._

_"You think you're funny," he said coldly. "But you're just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Donovan. Leave him _alone_."_

_Behind them, the Impediment Jinx was wearing off. Sherlock was beginning to inch toward his fallen wand, spitting out soapsuds as he crawled._

_Anderson turned back to Sherlock. "OY!"_

_But it was too late; Sherlock had directed his wand straight at Sally; there was a flash of light and a gash appeared on the side of her face, spattering her robes with blood. Sally whirled about; a second flash of light later, Sherlock was hanging upside down in the air, his robes falling over his head to reveal skinny, pallid legs and a pair of greying underpants._

_Many people in the crowd watching cheered. Sally and Anderson roared with laughter._

_John, whose furious expression had twitched for and instant as though he was going to smile, said, "Let him down!"_

_"Certainly," said Sally and she jerked her wand upward. Sherlock fell into a crumpled heap on the ground. Disentangling himself from his robes, he quickly got to his feet, but Anderson said, "_Locomotor mortis_!" and Sherlock keeled over again at once, rigid as a board._

_"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" John shouted. He had his own wand out now. Sally and Anderson eyed it warily._

_"Ah, Watson, don't make me hex you," said Sally earnestly._

_"Take the curse off him, then!"_

_Sally sighed deeply, then turned to Sherlock and muttered the countercurse._

_"There you go," she said, as Sherlock struggled to his feet again, "you're lucky Watson was here, Freak - "_

_"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like him!"_

_John blinked. "Fine," he said coolly. "I won't bother in the future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, _Freak_."_

* * *

Draco and Sherlock sat together in a booth in the corner of the pub, away from everyone else. Sherlock had drunk two butterbeers and Draco had three. By this point, Sherlock was resting on the taller boy's shoulder, whose arm was wrapped around Sherlock. They both were a bit drunk, but that wasn't a bad thing.

"You have pretty eyes," murmured Draco. "Mine are boring. They're just grey."

"I like your eyes," said Sherlock.

Draco smiled and his hand lifted Sherlock's chin slightly and before Sherlock knew it, his lips were pressed against Sherlock's. Sherlock was initally surprised, but quickly melted into the kiss. They pulled apart after a moment and Draco lightly pressed a kiss to his cheekbones.

"I know someplace we can go, if you want.." he murmured.

Sherlock smiled, biting his lip, and looked at him mischievously.

"Come on, let's get out of here," said Draco. He left a few galleons on the table, more than enough for their drinks, and took off with his arm around Sherlock's shoulders.

* * *

_**A/N: The next chapter is going to be smut, so if you don't want smut, just skip it. (:**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Sorry for the long hiatus! I've been super busy. Please accept my smutty Draco/Sherlock chapter as an apology(: xoxo**_

Sherlock had been to the room of requirement before. It had appeared to him numerous times when he needed to hide from Sally or Anderson or their friends. A secret room that Anderson and Donovan could never find and with enough books that Sherlock could hide back there forever.

When the room appeared this time, it was just as large, but without all the bookshelves and potions equipment. There was a large bed that took up most of the room, which Draco quickly pinned Sherlock down on, showering him in kisses along his cheekbones and across his jawline, finally meeting his lips. Sherlock wrapped his arms around Draco's neck as his fingers carded through Sherlock's wild mess of curls.

"God, you're so fucking gorgeous…" Draco breathed into Sherlock's neck.

Sherlock felt shivers run up his spine at Draco's breath on his neck. "Need you…" he moaned in a breathy whisper.

Draco started to unbutton Sherlock's shirt, kissing and sucking on his collarbones as he slid the shirt off of him. He removed his own shirt and kissed one of Sherlock's nipples, sucking on it slightly. Sherlock moaned loudly and Draco grinned, moving up so he laid flush against Sherlock. He pressed their lips together, slipping his tongue into Sherlock's mouth and ground their hips together. He could feel Sherlock's dick getting hard against his own.

Draco moved down, kissing and biting Sherlock's neck lightly. His lips glided over his pale collarbones and down to the other nipple, sucking on it and smiling as Sherlock let out another moan. He kissed his way down Sherlock's stomach and unbuckled Sherlock's trousers.

His pants and trousers were cast aside onto the floor with their shirts and suddenly Sherlock felt Draco's mouth wrapped around the head of his cock. He gently squeezed Sherlock's balls with one hand as he bobbed his head up and down, sucking Sherlock's dick. Sherlock moaned loudly, clutching at the sheets and thrusting his hips forward into Draco's mouth. Draco pulled his mouth back so his lips just barely brushed the head and Sherlock made a sound somewhere between a moan and a scream. Draco grinned and placed his hands on Sherlock's hips, pinning them to the bed and took all of Sherlock into his throat.

"I'm going to - " Sherlock threw his head back and moaned loudly as he came in Draco's throat. Draco swallowed all of it and then moved back up so he laid flush on top of Sherlock and kissed him. Sherlock could taste himself on Draco's lips and let out a low moan. He pulled off his trousers and pants and threw them to the floor with Sherlock's and started kissing Sherlock's neck again, softer this time. His own errection was still massive, but Sherlock needed to rest for a moment. Gently placed kisses were spotted along his collarbones, adoring every inch of the thin, curly-haired boy beneath him.

Draco spit on his fingers and slowly eased one of them into Sherlock's arse, crooking it just right to make Sherlock moan loudly. He slowly thrust his finger in and out, then added a second. He thrust his fingers several times and then scissored them inside of Sherlock. Sherlock threw his head back and let out a low moan.

By the time Draco removed his fingers, Sherlock was already starting to get hard again. Draco spit on his hands and lubed his prick up with spit and precome. He positioned the head of his cock over Sherlock's arse and slowly pushed himself inside of Sherlock.

"Ahhhhhohhh…" moaned Sherlock, gripping the sheets in his hands. Draco pulled almost all the way out and thrust back in with a soft groan. After a few more thrusts, he settled into a rhythm and Sherlock moved his hips down in sync with Draco's thrusts.

"I'm gonna come…" moaned Draco with a final thrust into Sherlock's arse and came inside him. He stroked Sherlock a few times and Sherlock came all over his stomach. Draco pulled out and crawled up beside Sherlock, both of them dazed and smiling at each other. Draco snuggled into Sherlock's neck, arms wrapped around his waist. Their legs tangled up in the sheets and in each other's. Sherlock lightly kissed Draco's thin, blond hair.

"You're beautiful…" murmured Sherlock. Draco smiled at him and pressed their lips together, less fierce and passionate as before, but equally wonderful.

He curled into Sherlock's chest and soon they both drifted to sleep.


End file.
